Your Guardian Angel
by mist8ke
Summary: Three years in Azkaban can do horrible things to a person. When a new law is passed that allowed prisoners to be released Hermione has a bright idea. But maybe this time, she's in over her head. Draco/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, and Blaise/Ron pairings. Mostly Dramione centered fic. A little tinge of angst but still the usual fluff and clichés.
1. Chapter 1

The war has been over for 3 years. As all the previous wars, this one ended with many death and much sorrow. The people were furious at the Death Eaters and Tom Riddle's followers. There seemed to be an extreme want to prove that they were as far from those monsters as possible through better muggle relations, political correctness towards muggleborns and harsh punishments for those who did not conform. In their pursuit of justice and muggle acceptance, they people became far more like those monsters they tried so hard to punish.

All those who bore the Dark Mark and even those who had suspected relations with them and were not public about their support were either cast out from society or sent the Azkaban. The latter of which was now brimming with prisoners.

The unforgiving nature of the new government have caused friction. But no one wanted a war or civil unrest so soon after such a long war.

A month ago, Kingsley got elected, finally. Those who had actually fought in the war and knew of the consequences of extremism and unresolved anger. They saw where the wizarding society was heading and desperately wanted to make a change.

And change did happen. But in tiny, minuscule steps. Once in office he made adjustments to the law surrounding the wrongfully, in his opinion, imprisoned people despite protests.

Kingsley was at his wits end when the bill finally passed. A hilariously botched up facsimile of the original bill. But it passed.

The new legislation states that only prisoners with sponsors will be able to be on probation and leave Azkaban, which is now guarded by Dementors again. A sum of 1000 Gallons must be paid in advance as bail and the assurance that the prisoner would not me more than 100 meters from the sponsor.

But it was still better than Azkaban. It was inhumane in there.

Hermione Granger was the saviour of the downtrodden and all around philanthropist with her newly acquired fund from her Order of Merlin and war reaping, a lot of which she did not approve of. She was neer one to simply sit still while the world turned to… well shite. So she devised a plan, rather a program.

She had an entire bank full of Gallons from the war. Apparently for her efforts, she was given a share of all the spoils of war. Something she found absolutely barbaric. She did not earn the money and it was taken from people who were suffering. Sure, they may not have been the best of people or spent the money in ways she approved, but it was theirs. And the money in her bank was no better than stolen money.

So she put is to good use. She created a fund for the Restoration of the Wizarding World. Mostly the fund would allow people to bail out their loved ones from Azkaban as many of the Pureblood and Tom Riddle sympathizing families were left with little money and even less connections.

Now she simply needed volunteers. And who better than her two favourite boys, now men, in the world.

"Hermione…" Harry all but whined.

"No listen Harry," she continued her argument. "It would be just like a Foster system. You cannot possibly believe in leaving those people in the hands of Dementors."

"Well no… but," he sighed.

"Is this safe?" Ron asked her after listening to her entire argument. In the past few years, Hermione has found that Ron have grown wiser though also a little more distant. But she supposed they all had to change and grow up.

"Yes!" she told his excitedly. How could she have forgotten the most important part? "A vow. I've worded it perfectly so they cannot harm you intentionally or kill you. In addition, there will be a spell to see their true intentions which can be used as a sort of screening process."

"Well," Harry told her a little dejectedly. "There is no winning with you is there?"

"I'm not forcing you do to this," she told his calmly.

"I know… but I want to support you," he paused and considered his next words. "It's just that Ginny and I… well our family is… going to grow soon."

There was a long paused for his two friends to register his words.

"Bollocks" Ron mumbled to himself.

"Wow…" Hermione recovered quicker. "I suppose congratulations are in order."

"Yeah…" it came out as a half incredulous laugh. "I can still barely believe it myself."

"Congratulations brother," Ron said affectionately patting him on the back.

They sat there in comfortable silence as they all simply marvelled at how fast their lives were moving.

"Sorry Hermione," Harry started again sheepishly. "I didn't want to ruin your announcement with mine…"

"What? No… you could never," she told him good naturedly. "It's fantastic. And I would understand if you could not…"

"But I will!" Ron volunteered before the other two could go and start an apologizing loop.

"Really?" she asked excitedly. Out of the two of them she had expected Harry to be the more accommodating one. "That's fantastic!"

"Yeah well, that's what friends are for," he told her with a crooked smile that was just so endearing.

"So, I was thinking Draco and Narcissa," she began. "They… have no other family and well we know of their actions during the war."

"Oh…" Ron mumbled sheepishly. "I was thinking of Blaise."

"Blaise?" Harry said the name as if it were foreign to him. "Is he that…"

"Yeah, Slytherin beater," he nodded. "He never got the mark and has no other family. Annoying as hell, mind you, but he doesn't deserve to be in Azkaban."

"That works too," she agreed. "After all, one less person in Azkaban is the point of this thing."

Two weeks later, Hermione had the forms all filled out. And as it happens, Ginny was quite adamant that they were also going to be in this programs. And she would love to have Narcissa over.

It was not a well-known fact, but Molly had sent Ginny to Etiquette schooling prior to Hogwarts, worried that growing up with so many brothers she'd be missing something. There, Ginny has met Narcissa who was one of the warmest women who taught at the school. And that left a lasting memory on Ginny's mind.

She could not imagine that immaculate and prim woman in some dark and moldy cell.

"Well," Hermione grinned at the two red heads with her. "This is it!"

"Mione," Ron called her inquisitively. "You are acting as if you've never done this."

"Well…" she tried to look innocent. "I was actually…. We are the first to do this. Kinsley thought that if this went well, then we could publicise it and bring in more people. But for now… no one really wants to come here or do this or even know about this new bill. It's been very hush hush…. What with that Umbridge like woman on the Wizagamot.

"It's alright Hermione," Ginny encouraged sweetly. "We're here for you."

A straight woman with grey hair pulled into a tight bun greeted them as they disembarked the boat on Azkaban Island.

"Welcome Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Potter," she greeted then each with a curt but polite nod. They returned it awkwardly.

Hermione was never one for strict authority that border on militarization. And this place, the uniformed guards and this woman.

As they entered layers and layers of warded, charmed and transfigured stone doors, they finally made it into what looked like a visitation room. Or a very large prison cell with a single long table with benches on either side.

"Please wait here," she ordered the three outsiders. The strict woman then walked to the door and shouted out. "Bring No. 927, 898 and 899!"

"Numbered!" Hermione exclaimed in a disgusted hushed whisper.

Neither Ron nor Ginny quite understood why she was so outraged but they did also think that numbering people was a little detached.

Before they could think too much about it though, sounds of metal hitting metal in the rhythmic sound of footsteps sounded.

As the door opened, the first thing Hermione noticed was the stench that engulfed the room. It was horrible and acrid. The prisoners looked like they smelled. Which was not good at all.

"Sit," she ordered the prisoners as they were led across the table.

The earlier smell which their noses had just gotten accustomed to, re-emerged when the dirty and dishevelled trio sat down across from them.

"Why are we here?" the rusty unused voice of one Draco Malfoy sneered.

Hermione reminded herself that the man has spent 3 years in what was essentially hell on earth. She breathed slowly and tried to be professional about this.

"Draco," she began.

"That's Malfoy to you bitc—" he never finished his sentence as Mrs. Malfoy gave a yank at her shackles which pulled on his as well.

"Do continue," she woman urged her while giving Draco a meaningful glare.

"As I was saying," Hermione wondered if she was in over her head. "Ron, Ginny and I would like to sponsor the three of you for probation."

"Why?" Blaise croaked from the other side of Draco.

"Because we want to," Ginny told him compassionately while Ron simply said petulantly, "Why not?"

Blaise's eyebrows rose until they were hidden by his dirty and matted hair.

But before he could say anything, Narcissa, ever the diplomat spoke up, "No reason. We appreciate what you are doing for us."

Malfoy groaned audibly which earned him another scanting look from his mother.

"This is just precautionary but I need to cast a spell to see if any of you have any ill intentions towards us or the public," Hermione explained.

"If you must," Narcissa replied reluctantly while giving a sad look towards Draco. No one would say it, but they all wondered if he would pass this test of good faith.

As Hermione took out her wand, Draco stared at her intensely and almost menacingly. She tried to forget about him and focus on her spell.

A shimmering light appears around each of the prisoners and Hermione was relieved that they all glowed a weak blue hue. They'd passed.

"Well, I suppose we should get the bindings in place and get on with it," Ginny grinned at her. She had been quite glad that this was working out. After all, her sympathy for these three and risen tenfold upon seeing them in their current state.

"Binding?" Blaise asked a little curiously.

"Right, apologies," Hermione mumbled. "It appears that in here, you do not receive much information."

"A right detective you are," Malfoy scorned sarcastically.

"Draco," Narcissa hissed again. "Don't be rude." _Or stupid._

He lowered his eyes and stared at his hands on the table. They were covered in layers of dirt and grime. He wondered what they looked like before.

"The Wizagamot has agreed to a probation program as Kingsley, the new Minister of Magic believes this place to be barbaric and your imprisonment unjust. So here we are," she motioned to the two redheads. "But…."

"I knew it," Blaise complained bitterly at her reluctance to say the caveat.

"Oh just bloody listen," Ron told him exasperated. "It's not that bad."

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "Well you must be bound to your sponsor. It's not permanent. It is only until Kingsley gets through to your pardons or appeals. For now though, the binding requires the two to be within 100m of each other."

"Not nearly as bad as I thought," Blaise grinned relieved. "Do I get a wand?"

"Yes," she replied. "But any Unforgiveables and well… it's back here."

"Let's get on with it then dear," he smiled charmingly at the woman who may have just saved his life. Blaise Zabini was used to a certain kind of lifestyle and he did not know how much longer he could last in the cold and wet cell.

"What's in it for you?" Draco finally said. This was the first thing he said which was not entirely snide or rude. Though Ron was starting to wonder why on earth Hermione wanted to help this ungrateful twit.

"Justice," Hermione told his determinately and held his gaze as if just challenging him to say something.

"We just want the peace of mind of knowing that mistakes of the war and the subsequent years are put to rest," Ginny said diplomatically. Both Ron and Narcissa smiled indulgingly and proudly at her diplomacy.

"Just cast the bloody spell then," Draco told her uneasily. It was as if asking for her help physically hurt him.

She was about to but the strict woman who stood in the corner of the room, watching this entire thing play out, cleared her throat and walked over.

"I believe it would be best if I performed this spell," she told them. "For partiality."

"Partial my arse," Draco spat at her. His mother didn't even try to scold him for that one. There was no love lost between them.

"I would much rather do it," Hermione told her decisively. "After all there is nothing that says I cannot."

Hermione had a stare off with the severe woman.

She won.

Hermione smiled smugly as she cast the spell on Ron and Blaise first and proceeded to unshackle the tanned man who stretched lazily like a cat. But his bones creaked, betraying the number of years he has not had the pleasure of doing so.

She proceeded to do the same for Ginny and Narcissa who were already chatting animatedly like old friends and talking about her pregnancy.

"That leaves us," Draco held up his shackled hands with a mocking smile.

Doubt rose up in Hermione's chest and she wondered if she could really do this. She remembered the Draco from before Azkaban. It one who had remorse and wanted to be better. The one that had tried to do the right thing despite circumstance. But this Draco before her was bitter, cynical and possibly dangerous.

Hermione hardened her resolve when she saw Narcissa look at Draco sadly. She was reminded the he was somebody's child. He had once been innocent. But the world was not.

She cast the binding spell on them and unlocked his shackles.

There was no 'thank you' from him or anything.

"Hey," Ron called her attention. "Can we head out? This place is giving me the creeps."

"Try living here for 3 years," Blaise quipped.

Despite his best attempts, Blaise's good humour could not remove the tension from the group. They were all tired, stressed and little anxious to be off the island.

Narcissa who was wont to worry, know that the true extent of their stress would not start until they arrived back to their residents. While she would do her utmost best to carry her own weight against the house hold, there were still the problem of her need to stay within 100m of Ginny. She best get on well with the girl, woman.

She looked over that the other two pairs. Perhaps Ron and Blaise would not be too big of a problem but Hermione and Draco… she worried. He had changed in the past 3 years. She saw him sometimes, rarely really but each time she did, his temperament seemed to worsen.

How her angel has fallen from grace.

Before she group parted at the apparition point, Narcissa requested to speak with Hermione.

"Thank you," she told the younger woman. "And please, be patient with him."

A/N- Hello lovelies! I know it is probably not a good idea to start a new story right before the start of school, but hey inspirations comes at odd times.

So let's start this story off with a general and all applicable disclaimer. I own nothing. All characters are JK Rowlings and the title is inspired by The Red Jumpsuit Aparratus.

As always, comments are always appreciated and read.

Happy Reading! :)


	2. Chapter 2

Narcissa settled into her new room quite happily. It was the room she grew up in, in the Ancestral House of Blacks.

Upon arriving to the house, she promptly retired to her bedroom and cleaned up. She could not remember the last time she had the privilege of a hot shower.

Her living standards have really lowered.

"C'est la vie," she muttered to herself before she walked in to the bathroom.

Blaise was having a similar time settling in. Ron had been polite if not a little distant. He tried to make small talk with the man who he remembered being boyish and fun. All he got was polite one word replied.

Not that he particularly cared at the moment. All he wanted was a nice long bath.

"You've got any bubbles?" Blaise asked humorously. He already knew the answer. "It's alright. I can settle."

Ron nodded and walked away. Taking this as his cue, Blaise began to strip and turn on the taps. Just the smell of clean water, which he had never thought had a smell, was a small bliss for him.

He closed his eyes and sighed happily. Things were going to turn back up again, he could just feel it.

His eyes opened when he felt something soft and warm being shoved at him. Ron appeared before him with a towel and a few articles of clothing.

The redhead's gaze seemed to be even more distant than usual. Except his cheeks were tinged pink. Understanding dawned on Blaise and he had the decency to look sheepish.

"Sorry about the… I was just about to jump in," Blaise explained.

"Yeah," Ron all but gulped but pushed she towel further into his arm and promptly turned around and slammed the door behind hm.

"Interesting fellow," Blaise spoke to himself.

As he soaked in the tub his mind wandered. He couldn't believe his luck, to be saved from that hellhole. By Ron Weasley. How… peculiar. He wondered if the redhead knew about his preferences. For men that is. He figured he should probably tell the man sometimes soon, but at a good time. He didn't want to kick a gift horse in the mouth.

Soon, his thoughts wandered into more enjoyable domains of shopping centers and rows and rows of beauty products.

It would be futile to hope that Draco Malfoy settled into the home of Hermione Granger peacefully. After all, the man seemed to live to infuriate her. Perhaps he'd still not forgiven her for the act of physical violence in third year, but she stands by the fact that he deserved it.

He was unreasonable and irritable. When Hermione tried to explain to him how the shower in his bathroom worked her shooed her out with, "Blood hell Granger, leave me be!"

Then minutes later he could be heard screaming, "This shower is cursed! Where is the warm water?!"

He would have known to turn the tap left and push down for warm water. But he never let her finish explaining. Instead he walked around the house, dragging his dirty and worn boots across her floor and walked straight into her bathroom. Which according to him, had a nice sink.

Hermione went to the kitchen to make something light for supper. Tomato soup and chicken salad. Nothing to heavy, since she didn't know what they fed him in the Hole, which she now used to refer to that horrid place.

She was suddenly hit with the smell of vanilla and strawberry. Her body wash, a gift from Lavender.

"You need better body wash," he told her boredly. "I can't use that girly shite."

She didn't reply but she wondered amusedly to herself why, if it was so girl, had he used so much of it.

"Malfoy," she warned him in a no nonsense voice. "Watch your language. There are sometimes children in the house."

"You've got a bastard?" he asked with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Hermione put down her cutting knife and turned to him with a fierce glare. "No. But you will do well not to use that word. Teddy Lupin is your cousin and a lovely child."

"Oh, the orphan," he noted rudely.

She did not deem it worthy of a reply. After all, he did nothing but vex her the more he spoke.

He sat at her kitchen table looking like a dripping wet and very alluring Adonis, but then he opened his mouth. What a pity, she amused herself with that thought.

"Would you please set the table?" she asked him.

"Do I look like a house elf?" he asked her mockingly.

She ignored him but after tossing the salad she set the table up herself.

As they ate, there was little to no conversation. Well little conversation would be a stretch. Draco spoke to her once to remark that the soup was bland and required salt. Hermione wanted to tear his pretty little blond head off.

At the same time, Narcissa was standing around a kitchen uselessly, staring as Harry and Ginny chopped, fried and boiled their meal in a nice and familial synchrony. She had never really helped out in the kitchen but was curious to watch. After all, after years of staring at a blank wall, her mind was easily amused and interested. Just being in the same room as other people made her feel better. Prison, and especially the very solitary one she had, drove people insane. And he had always been such a people person.

"It smells wonderful," she complimented after watching them for a few minutes.

"Thank you," Ginny smiled happily.

"It'll be ready in about… 10 minutes," Harry estimated as he looked at the pot. "Perhaps if you'd like, you could set up the table?"

The old Narcissa would have sneered at him or perhaps even hexed him. But Narcissa found that pride had no place when she was a charity case. And putting plates on the table was still preferable to standing there awkwardly.

"Of course,"

Blaise was at a loss of what to do. He was hungry but it didn't feel quite right to just go rummage in Ron's fridge. So he sat at the island table in his kitchen and stared around.

Ron who was a little lost in thought finally noticed his sitting there restlessly. Blaise was showered and… food! It dawned on him that food would probably be a good idea at the moment.

"Make yourself at home," he told Blaise. "There's usually food in the fridge. Mum, she thinks I'll starve if I cook for myself. Which I probably would."

As he said this Ron looked in his near empty fridge.

"Bollocks." He sighed. "We're getting pizza. And once you're feeling up to it, we're going to the Burrow to restock."

Blaise simply looked at the man with a sense of amusement. He was such a conundrum at times. One moment he was all stoic and distant and calm and collected, the next he was scavenging for food and speaking about his mother and pizza.

He also couldn't help but notice that the redhead had a very nice behind as he bent down to inspect the content of his fridge.

"Pizza?" Ron asked again pulling him out of his thought.

"Sure," he agreed readily. "Whatever you usually have. I'm not picky."

"Good," he grinned boyishly. ""Deep dish pepperoni pizza coming right up!"

He walked over to a muggle contraption, a telephone Blaise remembered from his brief Muggle Studies class. He spoke into it for a moment and hung up.

"You like with muggle technology?" he asked curiously.

"Yep," he concurred and watched carefully for any sign of contempt. There was none to be found. "Harry, Mione and I lived together in this flat for a while. But they all moved out. I kind of like the telly and well the phone is just for pizza."

"Telly?" Blaise rolled the word on his tongue as if trying to figure out if he liked it or not.

"Oh… you're in for a treat mate!" Ron told him excitedly. Then he regained composure and came to his senses. "That is if you feel up to it."

"Maybe tomorrow," Blaise agreed.

"Okay," he nodded and turned on the telly onto the news. He enjoyed the sound in his living room, it made his flat sound less empty.

In the Granger residence, Draco Malfoy tossed and turned in his new bed. It appears that years of sleeping on the cold hard ground has conditioned him to sleep only on cold hard ground. This new, warm and soft mattress was unsettling.

"I need to pee," he mumbled to himself. He headed to the washroom attached to his room.

As he walked into the dark room and forgoed turning on the lights, he could have sworn that there was a ghost there. Or something was moaning. Did Grange bring moaning Myrtle back with her? She would be the kind to take pity on that wreck.

But the sound continued even after he turned on the lights and it dawned on him that it must have been Hermione. What was she doing? Crying?

It sure sounded like it.

His first instinct was to do as he did in prison, simply shout at her to shut up. But he paused. This was Hermione Granger. She didn't cry. Did she?

It felt oddly like an invasion of privacy to hear her cry.

He groaned and flushed before heading back to bed. Perhaps she'd stop soon. But in his bedroom, with the bathroom door closed, he could not hear her.

"Thank Merlin for small favours," he sighed and stared at his ceiling.

He didn't like the idea of hearing of even thinking about hearing girls cry. He wasn't sadistic, well not really. He did like to act that way sometimes. Because… because it was fun to unsettle people.

A/N- short chapter. Just some first day stuff. Happy reading and look out for more updates within the coming days.

As always, please review and favourite if you like it.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione got up at the crack of dawn, as was her norm. She wandered around her home aimlessly, observing her potted plants to see if any of them needed watering. Her eyes fell upon the pile of clothes in her washroom and remembered that yesterday had been a big day and she now had a house guest.

A rather ungrateful one. But she did not do this for the praise, she did it because it was the right thing to do.

She began to clean up the kitchen from last night's meals and began cooking the new. It was a menial task she could have easily used magic to accomplish, but she rather liked the way it kept her hands busy.

While doing this she allowed her mind to wander about.

She thought about the past three years and how much had gone wrong, so horribly wrong. It was as if after the war, all that could have gone wrong inevitably did.

It started small, Ron had broken up with her. But she had expected that one. Then an unknown man was voted Minister. He seemed alright at first, impartial and just, but he soon caved to the whims of those who were plundered by the war, those who wanted vengeance as opposed to justice.

Little things were blown out of proportions, children were being shipped off to jails or detention institutes, which is a prettier way of saying jail. It was horrible but no one seemed to want to speak up against it. After all, it would put them in a spot to be called a traitor and a Death Eater.

Then a law appeared that deemed all magical modifications on muggles to be illegal and punishable by 5 years in Azkaban, no exceptions. Because, apparently, making exceptions for people was how the war started.

This left her no choice but to leave her parents in Australia, memories modified and forever a childless couple who yearned for a little girl they dream of nightly.

She couldn't very well risk it, with her fame and the Prophet's proclivity towards uncovering unflattering stories about her.

Hermione willed herself not to cry. Someday, somehow, she'd find a way.

But for now little steps to make things right.

By first freeing those who did right. Narcissa who was paramount in Harry's survival that night, was shipped off to Azkaban with no trial for her associations with Death Eaters and Tom Riddle. But she had only been trying to keep her family together and survive.

Blaise Zabini, Hermione didn't know much about him but she did catch glimpse of him sneaking the students away prior to the battle and he fought valiantly, though he did get hit by a stunner a couple hours in. He hadn't been on her radar until Ron brought it up. It seems wrong found him worth saving, and that was enough for her.

Finally there was Draco, who had helped them during the final battle was captured for being a traitor. But he had turned his back on all he knew and his upbringing to help the trio. And he had made Hermione promise that his family would be safe. That promise had ingrained itself into her mind, and it was only now that she felt the weight of that vow lessening.

Speaking of the devil, she heard him clear his throat behind her irritatingly. It there was anyone who could infuse nonchalance and mild distaste into a single sound, it would be Draco, and perhaps Umbridge.

She reminded herself that she was a better person and would no stoop to his baiting.

"Good morning, Malfoy," she greeted him politely and then returned to her cooking.

He seemed to take then hint and instead of saying anything snide, he simply said, "Smells good."

Hermione was caught off guard by that reply. She had been expecting something far less civil.

"Yes well," she said a little dumbly. There was nothing to say because she could gage his current mood.

She finished frying up their food very quickly and moved on to set the table. As she did this, she realised that the stove was still on and their bacon was turning a shade too dark. She all but jumped to turn it off in a hurry before resuming her scavenger hunt for her plates.

She didn't usually eat this big of a breakfast, but given that her guest had most likely eaten 3 years' worth of gruel, it was only right.

"Why not use a house elf? Or at least use magic?" he remarked.

"I prefer the muggle way," she challenged. But then added a little more gently and whimsically. "Call it nostalgia."

He shrugged and sat down at the set table. "Whatever."

He looked at her expectantly and Hermione realised that he wanted her to put his food out for him. While she believed in catering to her guests, she realised that sooner or later, he'd have to pull him own weight around the house. Or at least half.

For all of his failings, Draco was not unmannered. As he sat across from her with a full plate, he waited until she was seated before beginning to eat. And he did so… so… soo daintily.

Hermione was almost trying to mimic him.

They did not speak during the meal however.

But when the meal ended, Hermione wished dearly that he would not speak, because all that came out of him mouth were demands.

"Where did you get these clothes?" He asked indicating to his tattered grey t-shirt and sweat pants. They were actually hers. But she didn't tell him that.

"I need my own clothes," he told her. "Or my wand so I can at least transfigure myself something less humiliating to wear. A potato sack would be more flattering."

Hermione had half a mind to turn his clothes into a potato sack.

Instead she simply said, "We'll be going out later to pick up your wand and some of your belongings."

"Finally," he grumbled as if she had purposefully delayed the excursion. "Before we go, transfigure my clothes would you. White dress shirt and black pants would do. If you can manage it."

Now she wanted to turn _him_ into a potato sack.

"Gladly," she replied all too sweetly. "As soon as we clean up the table and get the dishes done."

"I'll be in my room then," he told her as he excused himself from the table.

"As will I then,"

"You just said that you would clean the table and we would leave," he explained to her as if she were a little slow.

"No I said we," she explained in the same manner.

"Get a house elf," Draco told her with a bite in his tone.

Hermione glared at him and stalked out of the room. Draco was at a loss of what to do, thinking she may have just abandoned him, but she returned shortly with a pamphlet with bright green letter.

"Spew…" he mumbled. "Is this some sort of a disease?"

"Unbelievable," she threw her hand around like a mad woman and suddenly Draco realised just how unhinged the muggleborn was.

So he placated her.

"If I promise to read this," he began. "And I put the dishes into the sink, then I can go to my room?"

"Yes," she huffed a little unwillingly. It wasn't much but it was something.

"Alright," Draco accepted reluctantly.

When they finally finished cleaning up, it was just barely 9 in the morning. The exact time most Ministry offices opened.

"Right on time," she told him in a far too cheery tone for someone who had scrubbed plates all morning.

"My clothi—" before Draco could finish his sentence, she had tranfisgured his clothing into something more presentable and form fitting.

Hermione had to marvel at her handy work. The expression, the clothes make the man, was surprisingly true. Draco looked at himself in the full length mirror in her hallway and slicked him hair back with his hand.

The action reminded her of those male models in muggle commercials. Almost unnaturally perfect.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked not unkindly but it was her way of telling him to quit looking at himself in the mirror, least he never moved again and became a tree in the middle of her hallway.

With a nod, Draco walked out of the house without caring if she followed or not.

Thought a little unwilling to admit it, Hermione enjoyed the view of Draco from behind. He had grown into quite a formidable man.

When she caught up with him, she motioned for him to follow her to the underground tunnel that led to the Ministry. Since much of her work revolved around the place, she lived quite close.

They were in the Atrium when someone called out to them.

"Oi Mione!" Ron, who looked a little worse for wear, waved at her.

Discreetly, Hermione noticed that Draco's face seemed to light up just a little upon seeing a friend.

"Blimey Ron," Hermione noticed a little shocked as he approached. "You look terrible." And politely smiled at Blaise. "Good morning."

To which Blaise grinned and Ron scowled at her, "Way to make a friend fell loved." He grumbled then explained. " _Someone_ used up all the hot water today. Bloody ran out of water! I still have shampoo in my hair."

"I offered to use magic to fix it," Blaise quipped up. "Someone just didn't trust me."

"I'm not letting you use my bloody wand," the other man said in a tone that reminded Hermione of someone who'd simply given up trying to argue.

"You're getting your wand too?" Draco spoke up. But it was clear that he was only addressing Blaise.

"Yes," Blaise replied to him. But he had the decency to take notice of the other two people. "Shall we?"

As they headed towards the elevator, the density of people milling around grew. Draco who rarely liked crowds, much less now after 3 years in virtual solitary, was not very happy and in fact, showed his discontent quite openly with a sneer and a glare.

Then someone bumped into him all too forcefully, almost knocking him down.

Draco took a side step and hoped to move on quickly but it was not to be.

"Filth," that same someone spat at Draco menacingly. "You should be dead."

Draco had no idea how to react. Never in his life had he been treated so badly by someone who did not know him personally. He was frozen and trying to process what had just happened.

"Excuse me, sir," Hermione appeared at his side. "Can we help you?"

"Ms. Granger," the stranger who'd just insulted him all but beamed at her. "It is such a pleasure!"

"I'm sure," she mumbled. Then she put a hand on Draco's elbow and steered him away from the man.

The moment they moved away from the rude man, she felt him rip his arm away from her. She figured he must have come to his senses then. They caught up to Ron and Blaise who were conversing like normal people. Why couldn't she have picked Blaise, she thought.

She looked over the strange man who was now her roommate and realised that he was still a little dazed.

Finally they made it to the storage area of the Ministry.

After a good 30 minutes of bureaucratic nonsense and headaches, Hermione had managed to help Blaise and Draco recover their wands, a portion of their belongings and some money. It wasn't much, but Blaise appeared to be very grateful.

Draco, well, he was smiling. To himself. But he was smiling slightly.

"You boys are lucky you've got such good friends," the old woman behind the counter told the two Slytherin.

"Very lucky!" Blaise grinned at Ron as he swung an arm around the man. Ron looked a little redder than usual and shrugged off his arm. He missed the look of hurt on Blaise's face.

Draco just stared curiously at her but smiled just slightly. Her breath almost caught in her throat at how charming and almost angelic his smile appeared.

"Oh," Hermione remembered as they left. "I forgot to tell her about the Potters and Narcissa. I'll be right back."

"Right," Ron agreed and promptly volunteered. "I'll go with you."

"We'll just stay here," Blaise told them helpfully not quite wanting to go back there under critical gaze of that old hag.

Once the duo left, Blaise looked at Draco thoughtfully and smiled, "It seems we did get quite lucky."

"Speak for yourself," the blond man replied thinking of all the restrictions in his life. He thought his time as a prisoner was over. But it appears he had just been moved from one jail to another. This one thought, was gilded and appeared nice.

"Draco," he told the other man warningly. "Don't be obtuse. We all knew that things would be different after the war. But at least, we came out of it alive. And better yet, we are not in want of good connections. What better connections that the bloody Gryffindor Trio."

"Mmm…" Draco pondered this for a moment. He hadn't quite thought about it that way. He had been more focused on his freedom, but what was freedom without power and wealth?

Before he could reply though. The Gryffindors came back.

"Think about it," Blaise told him in a quick hushed whisper.

A/N- So here we go, another one. As always, I hope you enjoyed it and review/favourite/follow if you want.


	4. Chapter 4

Narcissa Malfoy was deeply troubled. She sat in the small library of number 12 Grimmauld Place like a fixture in room. Unmoving and ancient. At least she felt ancient. Years in a cell did odd things to her mind.

For the past three days, she entered in and out of a delusion of this place. Sometimes she thought this was real, other times she knew she would wake in her cell again. Though how odd for the youngest Weasley girl to be in her thoughts.

Today she was quite sure that she was truly out of her cell. After all, delusions did not last that long. Or did they? She doesn't quite know. She'd cast a diagnosing spell on herself but since she couldn't ascertain the authenticity of her wand, the spell was meaningless.

She sat and thought about her old life, and Draco… the only good thing that came out of it all. She wondered how Fate could be so cruel.

"I think we should call St-Mungo's," Harry whispered to Ginny as they watched the woman in front of them slowly deteriorate.

"Perhaps we should wait a few more days," Ginny noted. "She had been improving. And the wizarding world does not understand mental illnesses like muggles. They would most likely lock her up again."

"Oh…" Harry looked sadly at the woman who had once saved his life. This was not how he wanted to thank her. But at least she was improving.

Things in the small suburban home of one Hermione Granger were also slowly improving, or so she thought. The very next day upon receiving his wand, she found Malfoy doing the dishes quite willingly, albeit with magic. He seemed to be in a far better mood and he spoke quite cordially with her.

Perhaps it was because Draco got his wand back, or he'd simply adjusted, but she wasn't going to complain.

It's been almost a week since he's been in her home. She simply could not believe it. He was far nicer now. Though admittedly, he still kept to himself and barely acknowledge her, but at least he was cordial and hadn't said anything mean or hurtful.

But it still none the less shocked her when she walked downstairs to be welcomes with the smell of fresh brewed tea and a handsome sleep tussled man.

"Good morning," he greeted her with a lazy morning smile. The way he stood in her kitchen with a steaming mug, the sun lighting up the highlights in his hair, that tousled morning look, and just his general air of nonchalance made Hermione's hair all but stop.

Aside from the slight hitch in her breath, she gave no outward sign that she was effected. She told herself that she really needed to get laid, or at least, try to date again. She doubted the man in her kitchen would welcome any advances from her.

"'Morning," she finally said as an afterthought. She then noticed the second steaming mug on the counter. "Is that for me?"

"No," he grinned and blew into the mug he was holding, "This one's yours."

He handed her the mug in his hands carefully and let his fingers linger just a little bit longer on the mug as her hands brushed his. She glanced up at him curiously but he only smiled at her soothingly.

Hermione Granger was no idiot. She was suspicious of this far too sudden change. Change was gradual, so why was he so friendly?

"Thank you…" she told him politely and very reluctantly. "Is everything alright?"

Draco looked shocked for a moment but had the decency to look abashed immediately afterwards. "Well," he began. "I was hoping that you would perhaps accompany me to Madam Malkin's."

Realisation dawned on her and she realised that she had been slipping in her duties. She was supposed to help him rehabilitate, but he was stuck, literally, to her.

"Of course," she agreed very eagerly much to his relief. "We can head out right after breakfast."

"There is a lovely Café that just opened in Diagon Alley," Draco noted.

Hermione smiled indulgingly at him, "And I take it we should go?"

"Wonderful idea," he agreed. "Also, I may have broken your bread toasting apparatus."

"The toaster?" she glanced at it and immediately noticed that it was simply unplugged. She didn't think she unplugged it. Perhaps he did unintentionally. "No worries. Let me head up and change and we can go."

She took one last sip of her tea and headed upstairs.

When she returned, after much trepidation, she wore a simple mint green blouse and muggle trousers, we a wizard cloak. Nothing very different from what she usually wore. She didn't want him to think that she was dressing to impress him but she did pick out her nicest blouse.

She found him at the bottom of the stairs still wearing a pair of old lounge pants and a muggle t-shirt with the number 42 stamped on the back with a pair of mice. He looked so…. So casual and so muggle.

"Are we not heading out?" she asked him curious about his attire.

"I was wondering if you would transfigure my clothes," he asked reluctantly. "It appears I am having a difficult time transfiguring them while I am still wearing them."

"Right, of course," she said understandingly and promptly waved her wand.

As Draco straightened his dress shirt and ran a hand through his hair casually he turned to her and said quite seriously, "I think you should call me Draco."

"Um… okay?" she agreed a little thrown off.

"We have never been friends but in this situation, I believe we could allow a little familiarity in our relationship. It is not so out of the realm of reality that we could be friends."

"Oh," her eyes widened almost comically at his suggestion and she grinned at him and then looked away when he appeared to be uncomfortable with her open and candid nature. "You can call me Hermione then."

They walked in pondering silence until they made it to the entrance of Diagon Alley.

"So where is this lovely little café you spoke of?" Hermione asked him. Then a thought occurred to her, "How did you know about it?"

"I guess you'll find out," he smirked an all too familiar smirk at her. But for the first time, there was no menace behind it. It was playful and boyish.

"Fine," she pouted at him but then broke it off with a grin. "Oh, is that it? _Little Green Door_? What a cute little place.

The front of the establishment was composed of just a small narrow green door, with the words painted in gold and below the word 'Café' was printed in black cursive.

"Now I'm really curious," she told him.

"You know what they say about curiousity, kitten?" he, and Hermione could not believe this, teased her. Not for the first time today, her heart did a little tumble. It wasn't her fault, the way Draco said the word 'kitten' it… it promised such sinful acts. But Hermione was sure that it was all in her mind.

She was reeled out of her mind by the room that greeted her when she walked in. It was like stepping into another universe. The air seemed crisp in the room, the décor was simple and elegant and most of all, the wall seemed to be transparent and the streets of Diagon Alley could be seen.

"Welcome," a waitress walked towards them. She was a pretty girl with black hair and interesting features. She looked so very familiar to Hermione

"Hello," Hermione greeted politely.

"Awefully slow service here," Draco told her snidely.

Hermione gasped at his rudeness and was just about to apologize when the waitress replied.

"Prompt service is unavailable to little blond snots," she replied unfazed.

Now she was really confused and the waitress realised. She smile a little embarrassed at her behaviour.

"My apologies," she told Hermione. "We are being rude. I'm Irma Noire."

"Hermione Granger"

"Oh I know who you are of course," the woman all but beamed. "You are a hero and, in my opinion, a saint. I mean doing what you are doing. I…"

"Irma," Draco cut her off reluctantly. "Our seats?"

"Yes," she blushed. "Is by the window good?"

Draco looked expectantly at Hermione, who smiled and nodded.

As the followed the comely waitress, Draco leaned down and whispered into Hermione's ear, "Would you mind terribly if I ordered for you?"

His breath tickled her ear and a shiver ran through her. She quickly recovered and nodded eagerly. She was hungry and didn't really know what this café would offer.

"Would you like a menu?" Irma asked them once they were settled.

And as promised, Draco ordered for her very smoothly.

They sat in silence for a moment while Draco simply smiled innocently at her.

"So…"

"So," he mimicked. But understood her. "She's my cousin. Well distant cousin. She wrote to me a few days ago and I thought now would be as good a time as any to drop by. It appears the number of establishments, I and many of my cohorts, are welcomed in has decreased substantially."

"You'll make new connections and friends," Hermione told him decidedly. "I promise."

He smiled genuinely but then shook his head, "Enough of this morose nonsense. I've had a week of it, you must be tired of all the mopping. How about we talk about what you do? You haven't gone out all week, do you work?"

"In a sense," she began. "My job is to rattle the cage. Or as Kingsley likes to say, I am the Ministry's conscience. But that sounds so… high and mighty."

"So Irma had it right," he lauded her. "You're s saint."

"Well…" she blushed sweetly much to Draco's amusement. This was too easy.

Before she would reply, Irma returned with their orders. "Here you are! Belgian waffles with berries for the lady and three cheese quiche is for you." She paused for a moment and looked at Draco. Hermione was no idiot, she knew that they were silently discussing something.

Draco cleared his throat, "Hermione… Irma would like to make a request."

"I will do my best," she agreed.

"Thank you!" the other woman beamed at her. She had such a light and airy smile that Hermione couldn't help but join her. "You see… I heard what you did for the Malfoys and the Zabini heir. I was wondering if I would be able to do the same for a friend of mine. He's a gentle man… and he's been in Azkaban for a year now. He tried to hide but they found him… and well…"

"Yes," Hermione stopped her with a determined answer. "In fact, we can get the process started this Monday the moment the Ministry officials start working. If you don't mind me asking, who is this man?"

"Theo Nott," she said his name so softly like a poem. Hermione's heart went out to her.

They spoke a few more moments to make arrangements about when and where to meet before she left them.

"Time to rattle the cage?" Draco inquired knowingly.

"No rest for the wicked," she sighed dramatically.

"What an odd expression," he noted.

"Muggle," she informed him evenly, a little unsure of his response.

"I imagined as much," he nodded. "Though I am a little rusty in my muggle studies."

"You took muggle studies?"

"Yes," he told her then sheepishly added. "I took it with the mentality of 'know thy enemy'. But now I wished I'd paid more attention so I would understand the contraptions in your home."

"When we get back, I will give you a quick tour and explanations of the main ones," she reassured him. In truth, she was quite excited about the concept of introducing him to muggle life. She smiled thinking of Arthur Weasley.

"Do I amuse you?" he asked curiously.

"I suppose I find our situation amusing," she told him diplomatically.

"Amusing?" he questioned a little miffed. "I was thinking of inconvenient."

"Oh…" Hermione realised that his words actually hurt. When did she begin to care what he thought? It wasn't personal. Or so she told herself.

"I do not mean for me," he added sensing her displeasure. "I meant for you. But I will do my best to lessen the burden."

"Oh…" she was moved by his reply almost to tears. She was speechless.

They ate in complacent silence and both parties where deep in thought about the other. It was interesting how people were brought together sometimes. But the circumstances are always far more complicated than they would appear.

Ron and Blaise were also incidentally having brunch.

Blaise who was convinced that he was a prodigy in all things artistic, which included cooking apparently, had quickly learned the art of frying food. He fried everything. And nowadays, he'd stopped setting Ron's kitchen on fire while doing it.

"Bon appetite!" Blaise announced with a flourish.

"Bloody hell," Ron swore as he looked at the meal set up in front of him. It was fantastic and reminiscent of Mrs. Weasley's cooking, but more fried things. He has never been as glad to have bought that deep fryer.

Blaise grinned proudly at him and it was only then that Ron realised how weary Blaise looked. He had bags under his eyes, his hair was not quite as coiffed as usual and the blue apron he wore was covered in sauce and oil.

"Mate," Ron approached the issue cautiously. "You didn't have to. This is…"

"We're celebrating," the other man stopped him short from continuing. "We've been together for 5 days. I decided that 5 was a special number. So here we are! Now sit!"

Ron was not one for over thinking and he quickly sat down and dug into the delicious food. In between bite he made sure to compliment the cook. But he quickly stopped talking when he realised how uncivilized it was to speak with his mouth full. While it would not usually bother him, but Blaise's unnaturally proper manners made him feel guilty.

Once they finished their meal in silence, Blaise stood to clean the plate but was quickly stopped by Ron who shook his head, "My turn." The redhead added. "It's only fair."

The dark haired man sat there then marvelled at the domesticity of this scene before him. The redhead giant was waving away at the dishes and cutlery.

Blaise never grew up in a warm or loving home. His mother was… and to keep it short and sweet, a black widow. He was almost certain that she killed his father and resented his existence. But he grew up learning how to shrug it off. It never bothered him that he never had this level of domesticity. But 5 days of it showed him what he was missing.

And what he was about to lose.

As Ron finished cleaning and brought out a platter of fruits to counter balance their greasy meal, Blaise was stuck with the sad thought that this would be the last time.

He simply couldn't lie to him anymore. He had long ago learned to be true to himself and screw what others thought. No matter the cost.

"I…" Blaise began and Ron froze mid-bite and stared at him expectantly. "That is…"

"Take you time," Ron assured him and continued to eat happily.

Blaise marvelled at how simply the man was. Why could he not be like Ron? Raised in a loving family. Not having to worry about how people saw his preferences. And so bloody happy with food.

He wanted that.

And he had that.

Might as well make it last.

"Nothing," Blaise finally mumbled and picked at the slice of orange.

A/N- Hi peeps! Here is another update. I'm very comflicted because I am finally getting into the flow of things, but I also have school and real life to worry about soon. I hpe to update soon but if I don't in a few weeks, just give me a friendly knudge and I should be good.

As usual I own nothing and please review and favorite if you'd like to.

Cheers!


	5. Chapter 5

When they got home from shopping, she gave him the promised tour of all of the odd apparatuses in her home. But Hermione was a cruel woman and she demanded that he guessed what each apparatus did.

It was quite an embarrassing endeavour.

Though her amusement and laughter did make it a little more tolerable. He could afford to lose some pride for his goal.

"You know," she told him thoughtfully. "I wish some of the appliances worked as you imagined and not how they truly do. A teleporting box! How I wish we could just walk right through the telly."

"The telly," Draco began almost shyly. "May we watch something?"

"Of course!" she gleefully replied.

And just like that, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy spent the entire night on the couch watching telly, munching on snacks and sharing a bottle.

It was fantastic!

But somethings do not last forever. And their night of classic films was one of those things. Inevitably, their bodies grew weary from lack of sleep and then later on, the sun had to rise again.

The next morning Hermione found herself surrounded by a warm cocoon. She was so very comfortable. But she slept on the couch last night while watching movies with… Draco.

Her breathing hitched and she wondered if she could dislodge herself from him without a fuss. But his arm was wrapped tightly around her and other parts of his body were pressed firmly against her back. She wondered if she could simply just stay here indefinitely. It was so comfortable and comforting. She missed… she had been lonely.

"Good morning," the man behind her mumbled.

Hermione scrambled as quickly as she could out of his arms and onto the floor. She stood up embarrassed and tried to straighten her clothes out while not turning into a beet.

"I… Oh I'm..." she wasn't quite sure how to recover.

Draco looked at her nonchalantly and scrubbed his face with his hand before staring almost sadly at her. "Hermione," he began. "I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable. But it has been so long and I simply enjoyed the comfort of your embrace. You are beautiful, soft and kind… and I took advantage. I will try to hold myself back."

"Oh…" she sighed. It seemed that recently that was all she could say to him. Then she came to her senses. "Breakfast?"

"Of course," he recovered as if nothing was said between them and sat up lazily.

She couldn't help but wonder why everything he did was so alluring and made her head spin.

"Yes," she added unnecessarily as she left the room dazed.

"I demand to use the… the toast browner!" he called out to her in good humour. This seemed to relax her a bit as she shook her head and let out a nervous chuckle.

After breakfast, they decided to spend the day visiting friends and family. While he tried not to show it, it was clear that Draco was worried about his mother who, he told Hermione, had not replied to his owls.

Narcissa Malfoy sat in the library, as usual. But this time, Harry chose to join her. After reading a psychology text a few days ago, he was now a qualified armchair psychologist.

He looked at her blank gaze for a moment and shifted uncomfortably in his chair, wondering how on earth he was to begin speaking. Perhaps he should have read more than one chapter.

"Mrs. Malfoy…" he began. But no signs of life in her eyes. "Narcissa?"

She older woman stared straight at him and smiled.

"Are you our new tutor?" she asked.

"Tutor?" he questioned. "No I'm… I'm Harry Potter."

"Potter…" she trailed off for a while but her eyes seemed to refocus and she seemed quite present. "Dear me. I was just reliving a memory." She sighed. "This place brings back memories of my youth."

"Good memories?"

"A mix," she admitted sadly. "But some I think you might be quite interested to hear about your godfather and even one about your father. So…"

And so the story went about how baby Sirius Black had once turned an eight year old Bellatrix's hair frizzy and it has never been quite right.

Harry could not stop laughing.

It was at this moment that Ginny let Hermione and Draco into their home.

"Oh don't mind Harry," she welcomed her guest in. "He finds childish pranks hilarious. I hope he still feels that way when little Potter here comes along."

"Congratulations Mrs. Potter," Draco told her politely.

"Please, call me Ginny, and thank you!" she said cheerily. But her tone changed as they walked towards the library. "Draco, if I may call you that." He nodded. "I feel that I must let you know, your mother is not at her best. We have tried our best and if this continues we'd…"

"I understand," he sighed dejectedly. "Azkaban has done damage to her mind. But please, please do not send her away. I'll find a way to repay your kindness…"

"No, no," Ginny stopped him short. "I simply meant that we would like you to decide what the best course of action would be. As you are her son. But we are happy to have her here."

Hermione was already ahead of the two and knocked on the door, "Harry, Mrs. Narcissa, good morning."

"Good morning dear," she greeted politely. "Is my son with, ah! Draco how good it is to see you!"

It was clear to everyone in the room that the Malfoy's care deeply for each other. Draco immediately leaned down to hiss his mother's cheek before taking her hand gently.

"I hope you are well," he wished her.

"Much better now," she smiled pleasantly at him.

"We'll be in the kitchen," Harry mumbled. "Tea! Yes we're going to make tea and when you are ready, you can join us."

"Thank you, Harry," Narcissa told the man gratefully.

Hermione's eyes lingered on the lithe and light haired man who knelt by his mother. It was clear how much he loved her and how much he was suffering. It was heart wrenching to watch him suffer.

"What happened to her?" Hermione asked softly as they left the room.

"Her mind is broken," Ginny replied sadly. "She is losing track of where and when she is."

"Perhaps writing about her story would help her," she offered lightly and that was the end of the subject.

"Have you heard from Ron?" Harry asked almost urgently.

"Yesterday," she told him but did not add that she would be visiting him later. She knew there was tension between the boys. "He owled me. He's been busy I think."

"I wish he'd owl," Ginny fussed over the tea. "It's like ever since Harry and I got together, he's been distancing himself from us."

"He wasn't too happy that I was corrupting his little sister," Harry countered. "It makes sense."

"I think maybe he's just busy," Hermione mumbled to the couple. Then she changed the subject. "By the by, a cousin of Draco's is about to be our fourth sponsor!"

"That's wonderful!" Ginny grinned.

"Who?" Harry asked cautiously and curiously. He didn't want some random and potentially dangerous prisoner out.

"Theodore Nott?" Hermione asked if they knew him.

"He was in our year," Harry nodded remembering him. "Smart guy. We partnered up in charms. Very quiet though."

"Who's smart?" Draco asked as he walked into their sitting room.

His mother who followed chided him, "Draco, don't interrupt conversations."

He looked sullen but Hermione quickly carried the conversation forward. "Mrs. Malfoy, tea?" She poured some and then some for Draco whose fingers lingered on her a little too long. This was not unnoticed by the other three occupants in the room.

"We were just talking about Theo," Ginny began the conversation. "Nott."

"Irma wants to sponsor her," Draco added for his mother.

"Oh dear sweet Irma," she reminisced. "Such a shame the family shunned her. She was a true Black daughter though and through, if not a little too idealistic and enthusiastic."

"How interesting," Hermione grinned. "She changed her last name in french."

"Yes," Narcissa nodded agreeing with her. "She did so when she moved to Canada. But as a child she used to simply be Irma Black. Before she left us."

"She live with you?" Harry questioned.

"At the manor," Narcissa said almost regretfully. "She was a child on the wrong side of the sheets. Our house elves raised her in the service quarters."

"Oh…" Ginny mumbled sadly.

"She is a very well-adjusted woman," Hermione assure them.

"You mean and a bully," Draco pouted humorously.

They continued to chat amiably until lunch time, when Hermione excused them for a lunch meeting. Draco noticed that she did not say with whom. He was quite curious at this development in their friendship dynamic.

But this was all forgotten when they headed to Ron's flat in the crowded muggle London. If Draco thought he was imbedded in muggleness, then Blaise was drowning in it.

Then a thought occurred to Draco. Maybe he had competition for Hermione's affection.

"Is this… a date?" he asked her curiously. "If it is, I can make myself scares and take Blaise."

"What?" Hermione asked almost appalled at the idea. "No. In fact… well can you keep a secret?"

And of course, like any good Slytherin, he nodded.

Blaise was distracted. They were having Hermione and Draco over for lunch. He mostly worried that Draco would spill the beans about his sexual preferences. But he was also a little agitated about the idea of being on a third, or was he the fourth, wheel on Ron and Hermione's date.

When the doorbell rang, Ron walked quickly to greet their guests while he set up the table.

"Hermione, Malfoy," Ron greeted them like old friends.

"Thank you for having us," Draco spoke up. "I'll leave you two to catch up." He said before making a beeline for Blaise. He had some interesting news for the poor sod who frankly looked miserable.

"Hey Draco," he was greeted with what enthusiasm Blaise could muster.

"You alright?"

"This place is too bloody fantastic," he sighed sadly. "That's the problem!"

"Seriously?" Draco asked a little appalled. "Why?"

"The atmosphere," Blaise told him. "It's like a soft warm blanket in the middle of winter. But I know soon the cold will seep back in."

"Quit being so poetic," Draco sighed. "I've got things to tell you."

But before he could, the other two joined them and they had lunch which Blaise made. Hermione was thoroughly impressed and Draco reminded himself to learn from his friend.

During the meal, Draco realised something very interesting. He was the holder of some very sensitive information.

And by the end of their meal, he had decided to take pity on Blaise. After all, it was his idea that now gave him such a nice and pleasant home.

"Blaise," Draco spoke up as they ate desert. "Hermione and I were at The Café and I could have sworn I saw Jack there."

"Jack?" Blaise's voice raised an octave and his eyes widened almost comically.

"Yeah, you know," Draco continued. "The bloke you were seeing…"

"Seeing?" Ron asked curiously.

"Briefly," Blaise mumbled. "Please excuse me."

And with that Blaise left the room and an uncomfortable silence fell onto the room. This silence made it hard for anything to continue. Furthermore, Ron seemed too distracted to even make conversation.

Hermione and Draco left not half an hour later.

"Draco…" she chided him. "That was uncalled for."

"Sometimes you must be cruel to be kind," he mumbled.

"… did you just quote?"

"It's a catchy song," Draco defended.

Once their guests left, Ron began to fret and worry about Blaise. Draco was a twit.

He went upstairs to know on Blaise's door but the man didn't reply, so he slowly pushed the door open to find Blaise packing what little he had into a suitcase.

Blaise turned up to look at him sadly and wiped his eyes quickly.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked dumbly.

"Packing," he stated simply. "You don't have to say anything… I know. I apologize for keeping it from you."

"What for?" Ron question confused and a little sad.

"I know how homosexuality is regarded in wizarding society," he replied defeated and slammed his case closed.

"I mean why are you leaving?"

"Do you not want me to?"

"Not really," he told him candidly. "I like the breakfasts and lunch and dinner. Oh and don't get me started on Hermione if she catches wind of you leaving."

"That's it?" Blaise questioned aghast.

"That's it," he concluded. "Oh and if you bring anyone home, silencing charms, please and thank you."

"I… I… Thank you!" Blaise grinned and lunged himself at the redhead and gave him a tight hug.

If he were looking at Ron's face he would have noticed the man turn a few shades redder than usual.

A/N- Hi again. Thanks to the lovely reviews and here is another chapter. I think this will be all for tonight. Stay tuned for preditable happy endings and fuzziness.

HAve a great night!


	6. Chapter 6

That Monday morning, Hermione greeted Irma in the reception hall of one of the numerous administrative offices in Ministry. And due to their circumstances, Draco had to come with them.

The process to release a prisoner was tedious and dreadful, not to mention full of obstacles meant to prevent it from happening. Good thing Hermione was a walking encyclopedia of all Ministry legislations and laws. It was quite frankly scary.

"She's a fierce little thing when she gets started," Irma noted to Draco as they stood off in the distance watching Hermione lecturing the official with a stack of what looked to be legislations. She was a small woman and aside from the large mane of hair, she looked small and not capable of inciting fear. But the man across the counter from her was quivering.

"Bloody scary," Draco agreed quite proudly. She was like a lion. She was also on their side. How convenient.

When Hermione returned with a small smile on her face she handed Irma a form, "Here. This should be enough to get Mr. Nott out."

"Oh…" she other woman started to tear up and she hugged Hermione. "Thank you! Thank you! I will never be able to repay you."

"It's really alright," she tried to convince. "I'm just doing what is right. Best of luck."

"can… Can I go and get him out now?" Irma asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Draco sighed getting tired of the emotions. But he reminded himself to be polite since Hermione was watching. "Just take the next ferry to the island. Just a warning though, the jailer woman is one scary loon."

Irma grinned at him sheepishly. She could tell that Draco was getting a little weary of the hectic morning. So she took her leave.

With a huge sigh, Hermione ran a hand over her face and wondered how the Ministry ever ran properly with this amount of obstacles. But when she looked at Draco's face, she was reminded that despite it all, Draco and people like him, would get justice.

"Well!" she tried to perk up again. "That is done with. Thank you for coming along."

"It was no problem," he replied smoothly. "After all, you should be getting the thanks for what you did. Theo was, is innocent. He was always too smart. He knew to keep his nose clean."

"Sometimes it's very hard to do, but good on him for being able to," she told his reassuringly. "Now since we got this done fairly quickly, did you want to do something this afternoon?"

"I… I did not have any plans," Draco mumbled unsure. He wasn't expecting this.

"Anything," she urged him. "And if you'd like I could even stay out of the way while you go about your business."

"I would like to go to the bank," he told her decisively.

Hermione didn't know what business he could possibly have there but she agreed to take him and she waited patiently in the lobby while he did his business.

As she looked onto the street she saw the unmistakeable red hair of a Weasley, Ron's to be exact. And standing out just as much as his hair was the clothes of the man next to him. Blaise Zabini seemed to be wearing a reflective purple robe reminiscent of something Dumbledore would wear. They were talked and laughing.

She looked back at Draco who had disappeared into the vaults and decided to go greet them.

"Ron! Blaise!" she shouted.

They turned to her and waved back. Then proceeded to walk towards her.

"Mione," Ron was a little taken aback by her presence. "What are you doing here?"

"Busy morning," she explained. "So we took the afternoon off and Draco wanted to come here. How about you guys?"

"We went shopping," Blaise said quite cheerily and raised up the bags in his hands for her to see.

" _He_ went shopping," Ron pointed out. "I was told that there would be food."

Hermione grinned at Ron's jab at himself. It was refreshing to hear him speak so humorously. He had been a little down this last few years and it seemed that Blaise's cheerful and easy going nature was rubbing off on him.

"You go that teal tie," Blaise pointed out as Hermione turned her attention back to their conversation.

"I didn't get it," Ron said in a gruff tone as he remembered that offensive piece of clothing.

"Yes you did," Blaise grinned happily. "It'll look great. Trust me. And you need newer clothes."

Ron blushed a little but stayed quiet.

Before anyone continued the conversation Draco walked out and Hermione was assaulted by the events of their last lunch. She wondered if Blaise and Draco were still at odds.

"Blaise, how are you?" he greeted smoothly.

"Never better," the other man replied just as smoothly. "I hope everything was in order." Blaise added by motioning to the bank.

"As always," Draco smiled a little arrogantly.

"You want to go grab a drink, Mione?" Ron asked a little exhausted. "Been walking all day and a nice cool butterbeer sounds fantastic right now."

"I'd love to!" Hermione agreed. Unconsciously she looked over to Draco to see how he felt about the plan. Simultaneously Ron did the same with Blaise.

"Great!" Ron exclaimed when it looked like both Slytherins were up for a drink. As he and Hermione walked on ahead, Draco and Blaise shared a look of amusement before following.

When they arrived at Tom's for a drink, they walked past Irma who sat in a booth with a quiet but very large in stature, man. She greeted them over.

"How serendipitous!" she beamed. "Theo this is her."

"You have my deepest gratitude, Ms. Granger," he told her politely.

"Hermione," she told him.

"Then you may call me Theo," he replied. "I would like to consider you a good acquaintance, if not a friend. You are after all, friend of a friend."

"Oy!" Ron joked. "Which of these sods is she friends with?" he asked pointing with a cheeky grin and Draco and Blaise. Draco looked mildly offended while Blaise just stuck his tongue out childishly.

The rest of them all laughed in good humour.

As they sat down in the booth with Irma and Theo, Hermione realise just how in love they were. Theo could not stop touching and looking at Irma who while despite being engage in the conversation, was very very happy. But she also had an air of peace about her.

She felt a tinge of jealousy of what they had. How wonderful it is to be loved and to love. Almost unwillingly, her eyes turned towards Draco, who was laughing at something Theo said to him. His laugh was so nice and sounded almost melodic.

She quickly looked away when he caught her eyes and paused just briefly.

"Hermione," Blaise caught her attention. "Ron here was telling me about your involvement rebuilding and restoring historical artifact pertaining to Wizarding Heritage."

"Actually," Ron quipped. "I didn't use those exact words. I said that you sometimes fix old things that matter to boring people."

"Thank you Ron," Hermione grinned at him. "And yes, Blaise. I do. Thought I find that I am often short on time these days."

"Perhaps I could be of use," he noted. "I quite enjoy history and I find that sitting idly around Ron's apartment is quite…. Boring."

"Our place," the red head interjected again, but this time in a more timid tone. Blaise paused for a moment and nodded seriously.

"I could," Hermione began. "I could send you a few smaller artifacts to you, so that you can restore them, if you are interested. There are a few 16th century vases that I would love to have restored. I know you can't be too far from Ron…"

"I could go with," the abovementioned man shrugged. "I'm thinking of taking some time off Quiditch anyway. I'll let the younger men get a chance to score once in a while."

"How about you take Blaise to Entwisted Manor then?" she told him happily.

Ron had been staying at home listlessly for quite a few months now and his newfound urge to do something was inspiring.

"What do you do all day, Draco?" Irma wondered aloud.

"I…" And for the first time, Hermione saw his cool and collected exterior crack just a little. But he recovered quickly. "Much like Blaise I am trying to work around the obstacles to live my life."

His tone was cold and it sent dread unto Hermione. She knew what he meant by obstacles. She had tried her best to give him his freedom but he still felt imprisoned.

"I think your life is pretty good Draco," Theo spoke up wisely. "You live in a nice cozy home. From what I hear, you go out to have brunch on weekends. And you have mates to brink with. All this because of this beautiful and intelligent woman."

Theo raised him glass to toast Hermione and soon everyone joined. Hermione was feeling quite embarrassed by the attention but she took it in strides.

They ended up having supper at Tom's and when everyone's belly was full and their cheeks rosy from ale, they decided to head their separate ways.

"Good bye," Theo and Irma bade them. "It was wonderful running into you guys.

"Take care Mione," Ron told her as she was wrapped into a big hug by Blaise. She found that the man was quite warm and kind. Guess not all Slytherins were alike.

As Hermione was busy, Ron took Draco aside under the pretense of saying his goodbyes. "Malfoy, make sure she doesn't get hurt."

Malfoy gave a tight nod and patted the redhead on the back almost patronizingly and held his arm out to Hermione with a charming smile, "shall we?"

"Thank you," she told him as she put her arm in his. She was a little rattled from their closeness as she could feel his body heat but due to the warm and calming effects of alcohol, she easily let go of that anxiety. "What a beautiful night."

"Beautiful," Draco whispered in a voice that turned her head. She found his staring straight at her. And this time, even the alcohol in her system couldn't stop her heart from racing and her palms to sweat. For the thousands time it seemed, she cursed Merlin for allowing this man to incite this kind of feelings in her.

"I meant the sky," she mumbled as she recovered.

They walked silently until an apparition point. They would have used the floo at Tom's place but her house was infinitely muggle and did not possess a fireplace. Tonight, Draco was glad for this fact as it gave him more time alone with her.

He loathed to admit it, but this entire wooing Hermione endeavour has been quite enjoyable and entertaining. She was a comely witch in many ways, add to that the fact that she was so bashful and receptive to his advances, and to top it off, the real reason he was doing this, she was incredibly influential and powerful in this new world.

They'd stopped walking and he noticed that she'd pulled out her wand. He promptly put a hand over her wand hand and lowered it slowly while giving her and little crooked smile. "Allow me. I believe you have had quite a few more butterbeer than me."

"Of course," she nodded eagerly and if it were a cartoon, her eyes would have rattled in her skull.

All too suddenly, she felt Draco's arms around her waist and she was suddenly pulled flush against him. Her eyes were awfully close to that deliciously muscular and pale throat. She giggled to herself at how vampiric it sounded. Though she wouldn't complain for some vampiric charm when it came to Draco.

"Ready?" he asked. She tilted her head up to look at him. From this angle, in the moonlight, _he_ looked like a vampire. His skin was an almost incandescent white, his hair was so fine and soft that she just wanted to run her hands through it, and he was so… so beautiful.

"Hermione?" her name rolled off his tongue like silk and she wondered how he could sound so alluring. He must have been part vampire, or veela as the case might be. There were rumours.

Finally she came to her senses enough to give a brief nod. And as she felt the sudden pull of apparition engulf her, she buried her face into his neck automatically.

He smelled of sandalwood, musk, and her vanilla shampoo. It was an intoxicating combination. She just wanted to lay on his shoulder and sleep. It could be so nice.

"We're here," a voice woke her.

"Here?"

"Eglington crescent," he expanded softly.

The hazy and warm feeling of arousal and alcohol seemed to fade instantly as she was brought back to reality. This was Draco Malfoy, a man who would much rather date a house elf than her. He was only being cordial because of her help. On that note, it would not do for her to take advantage of that fact.

When she looked up at his smug face, she was briefly reminded of the old Draco. The one from Hogwarts, the one from Azkaban. This helped her focus a little more.

She promptly disentangled herself from him and stood a few steps farther.

She noticed their surroundings. They were about a block from her house. Usually they apparated across the street from her home.

"I…" he rubbed his neck sheepishly. "It appears alcohol has also dulled my senses. We best walk the rest of the way home."

She nodded stiffly and began heading down the street. In moments, Draco caught up to her and walked side by side with her.

"I wanted to thank you," he told her honestly. "For all that you've done. For me and for my friends and family."

"It's what I do," she tried to keep it professional. After all, she chose him from a list of people. It wasn't personal. Or at least, it wasn't supposed to be.

"I know," there was laughter in his voice. "You are the hero of the underdogs and this saintly person. I just wanted you to know that I am grateful and what I said earlier, I do not find you to be an obstacle. In fact, I find myself very fortunate to be allowed the opportunity to be in such proximity with you."

She looked at him with wide and disbelieving eyes. Certainly he could not mean what she thought he meant. But the kind and almost angelically peaceful smile he returned said otherwise.

"I…" she mumbled looking away as his candor seemed to almost blind her. "You're welcome."

They walked for a minute in silence, they hands brushing against the others and Hermione had to consciously avoid moving her hands naturally so that it no longer brushed his.

When her house finally came in sight, Draco stopped walking and she followed suit curiously.

"I hope to make a place for myself," he began out of the blue. "But I have no idea where to start of what to do. It seemed these days all that I can think about is where I stand with you. It's almost pathetic. And please, let me say this. If my feelings are not welcome after this, I shall forever cast away these hopes."

"Feelings?" she mumbled meekly. Her heart gave a heavy thud before skipping a beat. She could hear this clearly in her ear.

"My feelings for you…" he expanded. He took a step towards her and when she did not move back, he gently tucked a few strands of hair from her face and looked sincerely at her. "It seems that three years in Azkaban have not lessened my admiration of you. I wanted to keep these feelings to myself as I have been a burden to you already but I cannot help by hope. It is an odd experience to be able to hope for something after three bleak and hopeless years. I… I find myself infatuated with you. I am wary to use the word love, as I have never felt it, but when I see you, it is like my entire world only contains you. And when you are out of my sight, I count the seconds until you come back. I want to give you the world on a silver platter, but it seems that you already have that." He let out a chuckle and took her hands in his. "Hermione Granger, my angel, tell me, please, do I have a chance? Will you let me hope?"

He said those last words so passionately and so filled with emotions that her eyes began to glaze. No one had ever said anything so declarational to her. And she'd never hoped that this man, this handsome and smooth and her posh man would even consider her in such a light. But here they were.

And here they were… kissing. Hermione found his lips pressed against her. She responded and revelled in the feeling of his soft lips against her. The kiss gradually became more and more passionate and aggressive. It was as if month and years of sexual tension was trying to be sated by one kiss.

This was dangerous, a small voice told her.

But small voices be damned, she was on cloud 9 and she wasn't coming down.

A/N- Hello, it seems that this year not even school can stop my writting. Here is anothing chapter. Things between the two are getting pretty serious. I think the next chapter will be a lot of Dramione scenes and then I'll get back on track with the plot. I know right?! this story has a plot, albeit a cliche one.

Happy reading! And to those starting school, happy school year!


	7. Chapter 7

Draco woke in the warm embrace of a soft and supple woman and is briefly brought him back to a better time, to his youth at Hogwarts. Back then, Slytherin girls and other girls took pride in bedding him and being able to wake in his bed. However, he was not disillusioned into thinking that he was anything other than a trophy to those women. Just another story to tell their friends about.

But here, in Hermione's arms, it felt different. She wasn't like the other and she cared and loved with her whole heart. I was overwhelming thinking about the previous night. The way her eyes shone as she looked at him and the passion and care that was tangible in her kiss. She was gentle and innocent. That's when he knew to stop.

She had been drunk and aroused but for all of his faults, Draco was not one to take advantage of inebriated women. He was raised better than that by his mother.

So he had reluctantly untangled himself from the giggling drunk woman and advised her to get ready for bed. When she refused unless he went with her a small pang of satisfaction went through him that his ploy to integrate himself into her life and her heart had worked. This was quickly followed by guilt as she looked at him with her big brown eyes full of hope and love. Bollocks.

He'd eventually gotten her to brush her teeth and change into pyjamas while he did the same in his room. However, worried about the drunk little lion, he had decided to go back to check on her and she'd managed to attach herself to his person. She he slept next to her that night.

If he were to be honest with himself, he rather hoped she would have asked him to sleep in her bed. He liked the feelings of her next to him. She grounded him and warded off the nightmares of that hell hole.

Speaking of nightmares, Hermione slowly came to as she became aware of the warm cocoon of her bed. She was quite shocked that she had slept soundly all night and for a moment she had forgotten about the godforsaken war.

"Morning sweetheart," she heard the unmistakeable voice of one Draco Malfoy. Reality came back to her and a hazy memory of last night floated through her mind. She tensed but kept her eyes shut. Maybe if she ignored it the embarrassment of last night would cease to exist.

"Hermione," he all but purred her name. "I know you're awake."

She slowly opened her eyes one at a time and looked at his all too symmetrical and beautiful face. But there was no smirk on his face, just a look of content.

"Oh Merlin's knickers," she mumbled. "We didn't…."

"No," he smiled indulgingly. "I merely slept here. I much prefer the warmth of your bed to mine."

She knew he was trying to save her from embarrassment, she remembered asking him to stay and then stubbornly clinging on to him until he gave in.

"So…" she trailed off.

"So," he smirked at her.

"What are we doing?" she finally managed to say.

"Dating? Courting? Whichever term you prefer. I fancy you, and unless you tell me otherwise I would like to… I would like for us to give this a try," he told her almost as smoothly as usual.

"You fancy me?" she said the words as if tasting the it and trying to evaluate it.

"Yes," he smiled slightly at her. Then with a wave of his hand as if dismissing the subject he asked, "breakfast?"

"Always," she grinned.

Draco took this opportunity to drop a light kiss on her cheek before he rose from the bed and headed to the washroom. This left her on the bed, still trying to process what had just happened. Was she and Draco an item now? How odd.

She waited until she heard the bathroom door open again and headed to the bathroom herself.

As she brushed her hair and performed her morning hygiene routine she couldn't help but feel prettier. Draco Malfoy, for all his faults was a beautiful man and it was flattering to be fancied. She couldn't say she didn't return those feelings.

He was different now. Whether it was time that had changed him or is she just never truly know the real Draco. He was considerate and funny.

And he had made her toast and tea.

While this may not be much, for a man who has been catered to by house elves every step of the way, having tea and toast made by him was endearing.

When Hermione finally came down the to the kitchen, Draco couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt over his true motives for wanting to integrate himself into her life permanently. Perhaps she didn't have to know and if he kept her happy what does it matter in the end.

And if was this kind of Slytherin reasoning that often got them in trouble.

At Ron's flat the morning did not go quite as smoothly. Blaise was determined to get Ron to see him as more than just a flat mate or a friend but if seemed the red head was as thick as they came.

Perhaps he'd have to do a little scheming to get things his way.

He wondered if Draco's game was going any better. If appeared last night that they were quite smitten with each other. Although he could never tell with Draco. That man was so good at being convincing that sometimes he might just convince himself of it.

Deciding that it would be best to worry about his own love life, he decided to get dressed and face another day of being in close proximity with the boyishly charming Wealsey.


	8. Chapter 8

Things were progressing well for the recently freed prisoners as not a month after their release life had gone and performed a 180 degrees. Admittedly, things would never be the way it was before the war but maybe in some ways it was better.

Narcissa was now free from her malicious husband and a megalomaniac no longer inhabited her home. Though she missed the finer things in life, she enjoyed the warmth and welcoming air that now floated through Grimmauld's Place. She's taken knitting recently after a visit from the Weasley matron. She found it quite therapeutic. The little hats and socks she made gave her hope as babes were wont to bring with them. She remembered Draco as an infant, such a colicy child but so beautiful. She wondered how they would fare without house elves.

House elves.

While she did not retain her assets or access to her bank account, she wondered if her house elves were still present. They lived by a set of rules bound my magic above those imposed by the ministry.

"Twinkie." She mumbled to herself almost too afraid to hope.

A few minutes passed and Narcissa was close to giving up hope until a little pop sounded and a pretty little elf stood in front of her.

"I is here mistress."

"I now reside here and would like you to provide your services to this home, discreetly," she added thinking that maybe the Potters would not welcome such a new addition. But she certainly would enjoy it.

Happy with herself Narcissa returned to knitting. Something about working her mind again and sneaking about to make her life more comfortable brought her joy. She enjoyed being a Slytherin, when it was harmless and benefited her.

She smiled contently as she sipped on the tea set in front of her.

"Good, Twinkie."

Somewhere the little house-elf was smiling at the compliment happy to be home again and ready to care for the new baby.

Somewhere in muggle London, Blaise wished we were better at being a Slytherin. This was the second time he'd brought someone home after he and Ron frequented a bar. Ron never seemed to care nor did he attempt to bring anyone home either. Blaise was frustrated to say the least. Usually he just cast a quick sleeping spell and let the drunken men sleep in his bed while he brooded.

When he finally sent out the buffoon he'd seen fit to take home, he turned to the kitchen where Ron had prepared a hearty cup of brew for him. That man was a saint.

"Nice looking man," Ron grinned at him happily.

"Yeah…" Blaise trailed off a little curious to what he meant by that. Did he also notice that the muggle man looked suspiciously like him, with the red hair and the tall stature?

He remembered seeing the man's buttocks briefly last night and he wondered briefly is Ron's behind would also have a cute scatter of freckles across it.

Dear Merlin, he was in deep.

"Blaise!" Ron snapped him out of his daze. "Haha still thinking about last night? Was asking what you wanted for breakfast. Well… actually mum invited me to breakfast and the invitation is extended."

"Your mum?" he asked a little worried. "Does she know?"

"About you or me being gay? Yes to both."

"Let me go get dressed then" Blaise mumbled as he headed back into his room his mind reeling. He was going to go visit Ron's mother. Better make a good impression.

When he emerged, Ron was still in the kitchen holding onto his steaming mug of coffee not half finished.

"Why are you all dressed up?" Ron asked as he eyes the man up and down. He was quite the looker in a sharp suit. His neck cloth, or whatever it was called, matched the light colour of his eyes and he was beautiful. Wrong felt a tinge of something deep in his chest, jealousy? Longing to be like this man? But he was Ron Weasley, the boy with dirt on his nose.

"I wanted to make a good impression on your mother," was all he said before he turned his wand onto the other man and quickly changed him into a collared shirt with a Weasley sweater over top and light dress pants.

Blaise considered fixing the man's hair but there was something absolutely adorable about his mussed hair and freckles.

"How do I look?" Ron asked with a grin and going along with the makeover.

"Perfect,"

For a moment awareness almost dawned on Ron that it the sharp nudge in his chest was not jealousy but longing.

Things were going much smoothly at Hermione's home as she and Draco have begun a lovely courtship full of sweet words and sweet kisses.

Hermione woke in her own bed that morning to Draco petting her hair. He smiled at her sweetly as she woke and gave her a light kiss on the nose and then on the lips.

"Good morning my little lion," he bid her as she stretched and the burrowed back into the side of his body trying to steal all the heat she can before she has to get a start on her day again.

His hand trailed the curves of her back and began soothingly massaging her back.

Why was he so sweet? She couldn't help but wonder.

"Would you like some breakfast love?" he asked her softly as she peeked out from under the blankets.

She gave a nod and slowly emerged from the bed.

"What's your plan this weekend?" he asked curiously. "No working overtime again, are you?"

He knew full well that she had finished her last report on the welfare of the giants following the war. Her work on freeing the wrongfully accused has been stagnating and he knew she was simply using it to fill her time while bureaucracy worked slowly and her proposal was slowly being processed before it would go to the Wizangamot if all went well.

He knew she was free.

He would never ask her if he knew she wasn't. After all, when one was in control of it all, there was no losing. This was his game.

"I'm very free this weekend," she grinned. "Was there anything you wanted to do?"

He knew she would ask.

"I would like to take you on a date. A real proper date."

"Oh," she blushed the prettiest colour when she was embarrassed. For what, he would never know. They have kissed and touched each other for weeks. But she was a women and they were mysterious creatures.

"Tonight," he told her confidently. "Perhaps if you are free we could go take the Potters to brunch this morning?"

He would like to see his mother. Not only because he missed her but because he wanted her advice on dating. After all, if this was to work properly we had to give it his all.

And when it worked, he would come up on top of wizarding society again, next to the Golden Girl and the other two who helped save the world.

He wondered briefly if he should set up some photographers or something from the Prophet. One anonymous note and they would be the news of the week.

He glanced at the women who was now in the washroom brushing her teeth. She smiled into the mirror when she caught his reflection and smiled.

Perhaps he's call the reporters another time. It was too soon.

They'd arrived to the Potters 10 minutes after sending them an invitation to brunch. As expected, none of them had eaten either and were ready to go at a moment's notice.

While Hermione chatted with the very pregnant and waddling Weasley about baby names and baby things, Draco trailed towards the back with him mother who seemed far more her usual self. She was regal and stood taller now.

They still received odd glances and sneers in public but they were more muted now with the war heroes walking by their sides.

Upon arriving at a brunch place in Diagon Alley that recently opened and finally sat down, much to Ginny's relief, Draco had spoken with his mother about all that needed to be exchanged already. He learned of Twinkie's reappearance and the fact that she had access to his bank accounts and was still able to withdraw from it for him.

How convenient.

Things were looking up.

"Draco?" Hermione snapped him out of his plotting and he immediately smiled at him.

"Huh?" he looked at her sheepishly.

"Ginny wanted to know if you'd like to spend Spring Equinox at the Burrow," she told him hopefully. He knew that they had to stay together and that meant that they either both went or neither went.

"I would be honoured," he agreed knowing it would make Hermione happy. "That you for the invitation."

His mother smiled proudly at him and gave him a nod of approval.

It was then that a man passing by the terrace of the restaurant paused and looked menacingly at the group. Before any of them realised, the man had drawn his wand.

"Vile excused for a wizard!" the man shouted before casting a spell. Luckily Harry, having sharpened his skills in Auror training blocked the spell quickly and Narcissa had the man disarmed seconds later.

They had caused a scene, again. Except this time Hermione was quite furious.

She looked at the crowd gathering and grabbed Draco's collar from across the table and planted a steady kiss onto his lips.

At first the crowd was dead silent and then a whistle. And a cheer.

Why the time the kiss was over, the whole crowd was cheering. She grinned at a very stunned Draco and went back to eating her parfait.

"Well," Narcissa noted quietly. "For a Griffindor, you sure know how to make an impression on a crowd."

"I've been learning," she told the older woman with a wink to Draco.

Draco stared at her in amazement.

This woman was mad. Mad and unpredictable.

"Merlin."

A/N- Hello dear readers! As usual I appreciate the time you take to read my stories and either follow me, favourite me or comment. I will make an effort to write more frequently in the coming year. I've lost the plot I originally had for this story after switching computers so this story is now unplanned and going wherever the heck it wants!

Anyway Happy Reading and Happy New Year! :D


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